


Personal Space

by beefcakemish



Series: Prompt Challenges [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Divergent, Fluff, M/M, post 15x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beefcakemish/pseuds/beefcakemish
Summary: After movie night in the bunker, Dean is reminded of his rules about personal space, and remembers why sometimes, rules should change.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Prompt Challenges [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650397
Comments: 8
Kudos: 127
Collections: Supernatural Prompt Challenge





	Personal Space

The light from the television illuminates the dark space of Dean’s den, and flickers over Cas’ sleeping form in the chair next to him. Dean debates for a moment about leaving him to rest where he is, but having done so multiple times himself, he knows the achy muscles and joints Cas will wake up with if left here and not in a bed. He takes the Road House DVD from the player and puts it back on the shelf with the small collection of classics he’d insisted on buying over the past few years. Turning back to Cas, he stops before moving to wake him up, instead observing him for several long moments.

Things are different between them since Purgatory. They’d been different after the first time, too, but after the second – well it’s hard to ignore each other after that. It’s not something they’ve talked about, at least not in so many words, but there’s an understanding it seems; one that has Cas staying at the bunker permanently, spending most of his time with Dean rather than flying off at any given moment.

Dean huffs a laugh as Cas’ snores increase in volume, shaking him from his thoughts. He wraps a hand around Cas’ arm and gently shakes it until Cas stirs. Adjusting to his deteriorating grace had been difficult at times for Cas. The need for eating, drinking, and sleeping wasn’t something he’d missed from his time as a human, but with Dean and Sam’s help, it was getting easier to adjust. There were still times, like tonight, where Cas had clearly ignored his needs in favor of doing whatever Sam or Dean wished to do.

Cas blinks a few times and glances over at Dean’s empty chair before turning to see Dean standing on his other side. He gives Dean a sleepy smile and stands, stretching his arms out and above his head, exposing his stomach to the cooler air as his borrowed t-shirt rises with his shoulders. Dean allows his eyes to drop to the tanned sliver of skin before looking back up to meet Cas’, head tilted ever so slightly to the right, a smile behind his gaze. He breaks the attention, clearing his throat and moving around Cas to hit the power button on the still-glowing TV screen.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep, Dean. I know you enjoy that movie.” Cas says, voice quiet and rough with sleep.

“Nah, it’s alright. That’s why I bought it. We can watch it another time.” Dean returns, matching his volume to Cas’ even though Sam is unlikely to hear them from down the hall. Cas hums in agreement as he grabs the empty whiskey glasses from the table, and meets Dean’s silhouette in the doorway to the hall. 

Empty dishes washed, dried, and returned to their cabinet, Dean and Cas walk back down the hallway to their rooms, trading small sideways glances each time their fingers brush together, Cas loosely linking them as they come to a stop outside his room.

Dean lets the silence stretch between them as they stand outside the door, hoping not to break the calm of this moment. He focuses his gaze on their intertwined fingers, and can’t seem to stop himself from fiddling with Cas’ fingers to learn the shape of them, to remember the strength of them, to feel the soft warmth they give. Cas is smiling at him when finally looks back up, suddenly remembering they’re in the middle of the hallway and that Cas must be exhausted. He leans in, wrapping his arms around the broad expanse of Cas’ shoulders, his own relaxing as Cas’ hands wrap around his body as well.

“Night, Cas.” Dean mumbles against the exposed skin at the stretched-out collar of his shirt.

“Goodnight, Dean.” Cas says, tightening his grip at Dean’s waist.

It’s several moments, maybe even minutes, before Cas disrupts the silence.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?” Dean replies, the vibration against Cas’ neck causing him to shiver.

“Personal space, remember? We’ve talked about this.”

Dean draws his head back, pulling just slightly out of Cas’ grip. He remembers. Of course, he remembers.

* * *

_Dean cranks the volume on the radio as he pulls out of the motel driveway. He needs a drink, and he needs it now. Sam elected to stay back at the room, knowing Dean needed the space to sort through the day on his own. He drives to the bar towards the outskirts of town that they’d passed on their way in. The parking lot is nearly empty, and he’s grateful for it. He sits at the clear end of the bar, ordering a double when the bartender approaches._

_Zachariah. Cas. Sam. Lucifer. The Michael Sword._

_He’s the fucking Michael Sword._

_Just another tool to be used in this fucked up game between Heaven and Hell that their lives have become all wrapped up in._

_He downs the scotch, and then another. Playing the day over and over in his head._

_A third scotch down and he cashes out, not nearly as drunk as he wishes he were, but the impala is hardly where he wants to spend the night after the mess today has been._

_On the way back to his car, Dean pauses, hair prickling up, feeling as though being watched. He glances around the parking lot, only spotting a couple making out against the building and a guy taking a piss in the bushes. He turns around and runs straight into a solid wall, forcing him back a few steps._

_“Cas, what the fuck, man? What’s your deal?” He mutters angrily, not wanting to draw attention to himself, or the angel._

_“Sam told me it was likely you were here. I wanted to make sure you were both alright.”_

_“Alright? No. I’m not fuckin’ alright, Cas.” He says, walking around the front of the impala, reaching for the door handle. Cas plants his hand at the seam of the door and the frame, preventing him from pulling it open. As he turns around, he’s chest to chest with Cas, fury in the angel’s eyes._

_“Jesus Christ, Cas. Personal space.” Dean shoves at Cas’ chest, and surprisingly he gives way, stepping back, but only a foot or so._

_“You’re angry with me.”_

_“I’m pissed at everything right now, Cas. Just give me some fucking space.”_

_Cas steps back another few inches and it’s just enough that Dean feels he can breathe properly again._

_“I apologize, Dean. I did not mean to cause you discomfort.”_

_Dean’s glare softens a bit at the apology._

_“Can you at least ask before you carve a sigil into me next time? And maybe call before you just show up out of thin air? S’bad enough your asshole brothers think they can just manipulate me into being Michaels little puppet with diseases and shit.”_

_“I am sorry, Dean, but I needed to act quickly. You and Sam were still vulnerable to many things worse than Zachariah.” Cas at least has the decency to look uncomfortable at the actions of his fellow angels._

_Dean nods, he knows what Cas was did was smart, and he knows both he and Sam would have said yes had they known what was going on. But knowing now that he’s just a vessel? That his body is just a shell that’s been created as a weapon? The thought of not having control makes his skin crawl._

_“I get it, Cas. But seriously, you can’t just do whatever you want with us. We’re not just little dolls for you and your buddies to play with.”_

_“I understand, Dean. I’ll leave you now.”_

_With a gust of wind, Cas is gone._

* * *

“You were very angry with me.” Cas says, bringing Dean back from his memories all those years ago.

“Yeah, well I was angry with a lot of things.”

“Understandably so, Dean.”

Dean nods and moves a step closer to Cas, backing him up against the wooden door of his room.

“That was a long time ago, Cas. I hope things have changed since then.” His eyes flit down to watch as Cas’s tongue darts out to lick his lips, and then back up as he leans in to close the little space between them.

“I hope so, too.” Cas replies as he presses his lips against Deans. Personal space be damned.


End file.
